The Devil is in The Details

All I ever needed in life was love, so I made a wish as a shooting star shot across the night sky.  I had waited 20 years to find the type of woman I needed, then came the complications. If I told you I've been more wrathful than the devil, who at one time was a gentle soul after a few millenias of being hated without cause, you might not believe me, but that's how it went. I would tell you about the 2 inch diameter x 5 inch diameter swirly stick that was screwed in the dumb ass who cock blocked me by gang raping the woman I fell in love with, but I won't. I'll tell you about the mercy that was shown instead. We gathered an army of people who understands that some people do what they do because that's what they desire for themselves, after which we hunted them all down, every 99 of them who refused to quit raping her until all that was left of her infinity looked like a bowling ball instead. One by one, taking our time right behind their backs we showed them all mercy, but not before making sure they understood our intentions to give what they gave.  

We tormented them with her screams, we made sure they'd never forget what she looked like after the last one took his turn raping her after the first 98 were finished. We would call them, leave text messages on thier phones, throw dead animals in thier yards and inside their mailboxes. We'd paint graffiti in blood on their driveways from the animals we placed in their yards. We let them know that we were coming and not even the FBI or the police were gonna stop us.  

After 4 1/2 years of torment we showed them the type of mercy they would never forget after taking a 12 gauge shotgun to the head of one of her assailants, then sending the footage to every single one of them. Yeah, we let them know what mercy was.  

There's two sides of love. One side is gentle and kind. The other side more severe in nature. After 20 years of waiting for the type of woman I needed and after my heart had been broken more times than Rocky Balboas nose, I had enough of pussy footing around, so I let them know. No, I'll rephrase that ... I made them know.  We discussed whether we should get righteous or wicked with them, so we decided to do both.

I've been a messenger for most of my life, so that's how I played it. I sent them a message they'll never forget. I haven't decided how long we're gonna torment them, but the message is clear. It's not even close to being over yet.  I guess this is gonna go the way it needs to. I like sending messages. It has been my job for a lot of years. I'm a lifer they told me several years back. I accepted it then, and I accept it now. One boy once asked me this at work: "Who do you work for?" So I let him know. "I work for God" I told him. As a minster of, I don't weild the sword in vain, nor do those who stand with me. If you come against my love, you'll be shown love. If you understand my love, you'll be shown more. If you love like you mean it, you'll be loved the same. It's about love, the gentleness as well as the fierceness of. Love and wrath ... That's God in God's glory. Love always gets the glory in the end, no matter how fierce or wicked we must get to make that clear. That's why I love what I do. I'm a messenger and that's what I'll always be.

Anyway, the first message was sent to the instigater who thought it'd be funny to take her away from me. I told you I wouldn't tell you about that one so I won't. The second message was sent to the first in line. We had exactly 100 people gathered together as we circled around him as he lay naked in fetal position crying like I've never seen a man cry before. That footage was recorded and put on tv around the world. We didn't just let her assailants know, we let the whole damn world know.  

Anyway, some commited suicide, yet somehow they're still alive. At least that's what the news papers said happened to them. The police reports nearly the same, and most of the police force quit their jobs. The FBI still monitors watching and waiting in thier mini skirts and whore makeup. Most the time they sweat from their eyes. At least that's what they like to say.  

20 years I waited for her. She was about the prettiest heffer I had ever seen. I figured she'd make a good milker. The way she moo'ed sounded sweet as the butter I had planned on making from her milk. Her name was Bessy. I had put a bell around her neck so I'd always be able to hear where she was. She was my heart, then they thought it would be funny to take her from me. My cow was raped by 99 of the dumbest people I had ever seen, and I made sure the whole damn world knew it.  

I guess like with every family member, Bessy was a part of ours. My wife and I thought she'd make a nice addition. Hell, she fell in love with her too. She, my wife, loved her just as much as I did. We'd feed her top grain to help keep her healthy, and we'd milk her by hand. We had a few bulls back then too, so the third message had to do with him. We made one of them idiots make a friend for life of him. We just taught him how to milk one. We kept that one secret up till now. He makes a good hand on our farm to be honest. He follows that boy around and refuses to leave his side. The boy says he's his protector.  

Well, as far as mercy goes, it's not all bad once you make peace with it. Sometimes you just need to keep looking up, and let those stars shine for ya. In the end, whether you choose to look up at the stars, this one truth remains ... You don't fuck with my cows.